


The Sound of Trumpet

by WolfRampant



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angels Are Morons, Gabriel Being an Idiot (Good Omens), Gen, Jazz - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 20:56:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21344587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfRampant/pseuds/WolfRampant
Summary: Gabriel finds a human hobby, Crowley has a strange evening and the answer for an important question is found. Is stupidity infectious?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme





	The Sound of Trumpet

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing of Jazz and it shows.
> 
> Inspired by the following kink-meme prompt:Listen listen listen Gabriel as the messenger archangel is often depicted with a trumpet. And true it’s not exactly hard to blow a horn to get attention but Gabriel is REALLY good with his horn.
> 
> So he may or may not have a low key fascination with human jazz and blues. I’m looking for a fic where he gets caught at a bar by one of the Husbands while listening to a local musician, OR him getting stuck with the Husbands on some sort of Heavenly assignment post Armageddon, and being introduced to the genre completely accidentally.
> 
> Aziraphale is torn between glad that Gabriel is enjoying something on earth genuinely, and feeling deeply uncomfortable about his shitty boss acting so happy. Crowley is deeply amused.
> 
> Basically Gabriel only likes two things on Earth; the clothes, and this one genre of music, and it’s cute.

The sound emerging from the bookshop told Crowley that Aziraphale was in one of his periodic jazz moods. Crowley smiled as he pushed the door open - locked until now to keep customers away, but in Crowley’s case, it knew better.

“Hey, Angel,” he called out, inhaling the familiar scent of the bookshop.

Aziraphale emerged from behind the stacks dressed in a comfortable old sweater and a truly hideous pair of tartan trousers.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s crinkled eyes told Crowley how happy he was to see him. Crowley smiled fondly.

“What’s that? Duke Ellington?”

Aziraphale nodded happily. “I was in the mood for some jazz. It reminds me of that time in the United States...do you remember?”

Crowley nodded. Last time both he and Aziraphale were in America it was the thirties and they were both ordered by their respective sides to make the Great Depression worse. Hell because it made humans miserable, Heaven because they saw the previous era of prosperity as a time of greed and materialism. He met Aziraphale at some godforsaken little town in the Midwest where the bank was about to flop and they got outrageously drunk.

“Oh, that reminds me!” continued Aziraphale. “A new jazz band is performing at my favourite club in Soho. I heard that their trumpet solo is simply divine.” he gave Crowley an expectant look.

“Evening listening to jazz with my favourite angel? Count me in.”

The sunny smile that Aziraphale gave him was a reward in itself. Crowley would never grow tired of this.

***********

Gabriel didn’t mean to take up a hobby.

What he initially meant to do was to spy on Aziraphale and his pet demon. Now, he was under strict orders from the Metatron to leave the two alone. But observing wasn’t actually doing anything, was it? And anyway, he was Archangel Gabriel. He could do whatever he wanted.

He came across the Jazz club while trailing Aziraphale during one of his inconsequential errands. At one moment Aziraphale turned around and so Gabriel ducked into the nearest doorway. And that was when he was struck by the sound of music.

Gabriel had never paid much attention to human attempts at music. Some of them dedicated their work to the Almighty and that was nice. The Sound of Music was very high up on the list of his preferences, but obviously nothing humans could produce would ever compare to the celestial harmonies.

But this music had Gabriel mesmerized. Heaven certainly didn’t have anything like this. He quickly grew jealous of the skilled trumpeter on the stage. Everyone kept telling Gabriel to let it go, but dammit, he was still really disappointed that he hadn’t got a chance to blow his trumpet during the Apocalypse.

He spent the rest of the evening listening to the music, even ordering a drink for appearances’ sake, Aziraphale entirely forgotten.

When he got to his office in Heaven a few hours later, there was a set of music sheets laid down on his paperwork, all for a jazz trumpet. Gabriel could take a hint when hit with one over the face and started practicing.

********

The jazz club was packed back but thanks to one small demonic miracle, the angel and the demon got a prime spot near the stage and were now happily sipping their cocktails.

The main attraction of the evening finally took the stage. The lights focused on the musician playing the trumpet solo. And the reviews were right. He indeed sounded divine.

It took Crowley a few seconds to realize that the tall broad-shouldered figure seemed familiar. Really really familiar. Uncomfortably familiar.

It was undoubtedly Gabriel. And he seemed to be enjoying himself. There was a happy expression on his face as he swayed with the music.

Crowley’s first instinct was to grab his angel and get the hell away from here but he found out he couldn’t move. At first, he thought he was immobilized by a miracle but quick check confirmed he isn’t under influence of any power, angelic or demonic.

So this is how it feels to be struck dumb, thought Crowley. He risked a glance at his angel. Aziraphale was staring at Gabriel with mouth opened into a perfect shape of the letter O.

You could hear when Gabriel noticed them because he missed a note or two. He recovered quickly, bastard. But his posture grew stiff and for the rest of the performance, he kept nervously glancing at their table.

Once his solo was over Gabriel took a very hasty bow and nearly ran backstage. Low thud told everyone that he ran a little too quickly.

Aziraphale was still sitting unmoving on his chair, but Crowley didn’t waste any time, taking him by the arm and dragging him to the backrooms.

***********

They saw him.

“Hey, good show.”

Gabriel ignored his fellow band member, quickly stuffing his trumpet into its case and throwing his coat over his shoulders. They saw him.

If he had time to calm down, Gabriel wouldn’t be able to tell you why he was so frantic. It’s not like playing the trumpet in a jazz club was a crime. But they saw him.

If Gabriel had an ounce of self-reflection, he would admit to himself that he was ashamed. He, Archangel Gabriel, was caught enjoying a human hobby. On top of that, he was caught by a traitor. Traitor he mocked many times before for enjoying the human hobbies. Gabriel felt like being called out. And he didn’t like it one bit. He was Archangel. He was beyond questioning.

He was out of the door in record time. He collided with Aziraphale and Crowley in the corridor.

“Gabriel?! It really is you!” exclaimed Aziraphale. The demon was clutching his hand possessively but he paid it no mind.

Gabriel’s mind was in fact in a panic. Say something! Something that will get you out of this situation. Unfortunately, Gabriel was very bad at thinking on his feet. Therefore his first idea was an incredibly dumb one.

“I…” his mouth opened. “I have no idea what are you talking about?” it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“What are you doing here, Gabriel?!” said Aziraphale, ignoring his first reply.

“You must have me confused with someone else.” Gabriel tried to grin cheerfully, but it looked more like he was in pain. You had to give him that once he decided for a course of action he stuck to it.

“What are you playing at?” demon’s tone was decidedly not friendly.

“I’m not playing at anything. Well, the trumpet.” he licked his lips. “I don’t really know you. And look at the time!” Gabriel glanced at the hand without a watch. “Sorry, must dash. Places to be, things to do. Bye.”

With that, he turned around, ran through the backdoor to the alley and let the lightning carry him away. As he collapsed on his chair in Heaven he congratulated himself on getting away so well. They nearly got him.

Back on Earth Crowley felt like putting his head through the wall.

*****

Aziraphale finally closed his mouth.

“Crowley?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes, angel?” Crowley blinked and wondered if Gabriel’s idiocy could be infectious.

“That was Gabriel, right?”

“Sure it was.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“That Gabriel is a moron?”

“Crowley! Be serious!” Aziraphale’s voice was not amused. “He didn’t recognize us! It means he lost his memory!”

Crowley put his head through the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so I asked a question what could be the dumbest thing Gabriel would do if caught. This.


End file.
